Overwork
by Wrong-decision
Summary: Tim falls asleep after working too hard. Bart makes sure he gets the rest he deserves.


Bart hadn't planned on walking into Tim's room when he came back from getting food. Tim hated it when someone invaded his space without his consent.  
The thing was, the moment Bart walked by the door, something made a loud thumping noise and it sounded like someone getting knocked out. There was no cursing either, that could've told him that maybe his friend let something fall down.

The second he had time to think about what could have happened was agony enough and so he immediately stood in Tim's room.

"Tim?"

What he found was rather amusing, though.

Bart breathed out, relieved.

Tim had fallen asleep on his desk and seemed to have hit his head on the desk while doing so. The fact, that it didn't wake him up was enough proof of how tired the teenager actually was. Bart kept standing at the spot right at the door, unsure of what to do now.

It wasn't even three o' clock in the afternoon. Tim's position looked really uncomfortable, too.

Bart frowned and tried to ignore the worry about his friend, that had kept creeping up for the past two weeks. Tim was working too hard, even for his measures.

It was a good thing that he seemed to have finally given in to his sleep deprivation. The Speedster took a step closer, testing if that would do anything to his friend's state, and when it didn't, he walked up to the desk. Tim's chair was turned towards him, so it was no problem to lift him out of it. He kept sleeping like the dead.

Many people reduced speedsters to their ability to run and so almost no one noticed how strong they actually were. Of course they didn't even come close to guys like Superman or Wonder Woman or Big Barda, but his grandfather could easily hold up to Bats and the Lanterns. And it was really no big deal for Bart to lift Tim. He even carried him around sometimes, when they had to get to places really fast, although Tim preferred to not do that, he said it made him nauseous. All he had to do was adapt his speed to the weight so Tim wouldn't get hurt.

He still didn't wake up when Bart lay him onto his bed, he didn't even turn or twitch. He seemed basically dead and, when Bart took off his sunglasses, the shadows under his eyes showed, that he must also feel very dead.

He shook his head and quickly pulled the blanket from under Tim's back and tucked him under it.

Normally he would've felt a little silly, acting like a mom, but the worry for Tim drowned that out.

Bart went back to the desk and looked at the things Tim had been working on. It was homework.

Science homework, too. Bart looked back to test if Tim was still sleeping and when he was sure he was, he sat down and took his friend's pen. Tongue pressed between his lips, Bart finished the questions and tasks easily, but not as quick as he usual would have, since he had to copy Tim's handwriting. Not as easy as he had imagined, since his handwriting was cursive, neat and looked almost as if it had been printed onto the paper, while Bart's usually was scrawly and rushed.

He set down the last letter and then turned to Tim again, almost expecting him to stare at him.

He was still asleep.

Bart murmured a quiet "Good" and stayed in the chair, drumming his fingers against each other and debating what to do. He could practically lay down next to Tim and sleep a while himself or just cuddle with him. They usually only did that when they had gotten back from a critical mission or if Bart had nightmares of the future, which didn't occur too often, but he somehow really missed having his friend close. Or really anyone. And body contact wouldn't hurt anyone.

He could also tell Tim that he... No, he didn't have to tell Tim anything. They were best friends. He didn't have to lie about his reasons. There was nothing weird about it, right?

Bart knew he was lying to himself.

That this wasn't normal and most certainly not only on a simple friendship level anymore.

He was also lying to Kon and Cassie when they had asked him about it.

And he knew that Tim probably had his theories.

But he didn't care much about that most of the time. And he didn't want to think about the moments where he did care and internally panicked, while running through every horrible, possible outcome in his head.

He shook it off and slipped under the covers behind Tim.  
To hell with all that.

Wrapping one arm lightly around Tim's hip, he snuggled closer, breathing in the soothing smell of his best friend. He hummed contently and already felt himself doze off to sleep.

The last thing he heard was a small sigh that came from Tim, who was now laying more relaxed and seemed to have slipped into a completely comfortable state of sleep.


End file.
